Again, it's not the kind of 140 I want, but that engine almost got me thinking... ;D
And it is easier to trim for straight and level than even the 150, I think.
The tendency to roll right was negligible- I could easily grip the funny little yoke in such a way as to relax and still have sufficient aileron in to correct it... but of course there was no way I'd be able to fly IFR in something with such a habit. Got to be able to fly hands-off for that, not that you would ever plan to do that.
I could tell, though, and R. confirmed it, that in good rig a 140 will trim hands-off better than a 150... other than the "heavy wing" it was very solid. The air was very smooth and thick, but I've flown 150s in the winter, and I know.
This was better. The rudder is extremely effective; all I had to do was think about moving my feet and the control was right there, just the right amount.I elected to sort of follow the Susquehanna River a ways, and as we passed over the next airport upriver, Bloomsburg, R. keyed the mic and called out on the Unicom frequency to a friend who was there.
"Where are you?" his friend asked.
"Look up"
:D
This reminded me that I hadn't done much with the plane, so I hauled her over into a 45-degree bank and looped around the airport, in case R.'s friend was actually outside looking up, then headed more or less back the way we came. N72619 rolled smartly, with little adverse yaw. My turn was fairly tight, but I could tell she'd come around much tighter if necessary. and the big skylights in the overhead provide a Cherokee-like view of the inside of the turn, if you bank enough.
I just kept going, lazily following the river, gently turning and trying to see what sort of posture worked best (seats are not adjustable). I caught myself hunching a few times, but if I leaned back and relaxed it seemed very comfy, although my left elbow seemed to say "Cripes! this is worse than a 150!" Oh brother
R. went on and on about the area, the plane, and his plans for his next plane... all the while playing the Friendly Instructor very well: spotting traffic, offering little pointers, etc.
He started talking about the stall characteristics, so I said "want to demonstrate one?"
He dismissed that with "no, you go ahead and do one... enter the same way as with any Cessna."
I did some clearing turns, then pulled the carb heat, reduced the power to about 1500, and waited. Took a while to slow down (we did it "clean"), and when it broke, as I held the nose at a fairly shallow pitch attitude, it was almost a non-event. I could see also that like a Cub, this is a plane that will most likely sink and wallow on you well before it stalls in a low-power mode, which is not really a bad thing.
I asked how high he'd flown N72619. and R. said about 8,500 once, just to try it... which is impressive with a fixed-mixture carb. Nominal cruise altitude is about 5500... which seems right, on a scale that includes the 150 and 172... which generally turn in the best speed-relative-to-consumption numbers at altitudes slightly above that.
I didn't climb that high, but I did make a wide climbing turn to 3000, and took us south of Danville, above a patchy-fog-shrouded ridge. Looking at a wall-like region of crud beyond that, I decided to turn around the promontory sticking out above the fog and head back.
Getting closer, I was way off my game... flubbed my initial callup because I realized I did not really know my position relative to the field... been years- ages! since I've done something that stupid!
Eventually I had a good plan laid out to enter downwind, but as I lowered the nose a tad without touching the throttle, R. said "Um. Might want to throttle back... watch the redline."
Sure enough, the needle, seen at a glance, had fooled me: the ASI is calibrated to 180 mph(!), but redline is 140, way down near the bottom of the gauge!! So much for "trend monitoring"...
I pulled the throttle back at about 139.
Rolling out on downwind, I seemed low. R. started tapping the altimeter. "Yep; it's doing it again... you're a little low."
Easy enough to pop up; we were still pretty hot. He told me to drop full flaps at the abeam point; the center lever comes up when you do this, so if you're not careful, you can jab your elbow with it when you work the throttle. I managed to avoid that fate, even when I drew the power all the way out on base as he advised.
I must say I prefer even this awkward lever to fumbling with some goofy little toggle switch and dreading all the things that can possibly go wrong with the electric flap system on later Cessnas.
"Flap handle"... it even sounds better. ;)
Doggone if that airplane did just not want to come down... I was high as a kite on initial final. "Go ahead and slip her... foot to the firewall..." I tried, but almost could not bring myself to slip some strangers' antique airplane like that, with the trees looming... she slipped like a dream, dropping like a gleaming aluminum brick.
I'm pretty sure she said "what a scaredy-cat!", too, as we whooshed in over the threshold, wing low.
I was very very thankful for the still, thick air as I coaxed her onto the centerline and eased into the flare... touchdown was only a bit rough, just this side of perfect... but I spoiled it by getting my feet all discombobulated (heel/toe-wise) while trying to brake after the rollout. We swerved a little, but nothing serious.
There was suddenly a lot of traffic on the taxiways... the day was shaping up nicely, and everyone was eager to get up there and make some use of their investments. We parked by the hangar, and as I deplaned a friend of R.'s who had his own hangar across the way, asked "well? What do you think?"
"I think... I think I like it!"
;D
R. filled in my logbook and we spent some more time chatting about N72619, the flight, and flying in general... mostly taildraggers. His neighbor started telling me about his Aeronca Chief, so before leaving I took him up on his offer to show it to me.
It's no show-winner, but still a good ol' Aeronca. Very much like the Champ, but with some noticeable differences: side-by-side seats, for one, and a fascinating starter, which works much like that of a lawnmower or other 2-stroke, except instead of a pull rope there is a handle inside that one easily pulls to turn the C85 over a blade or two.
He claimed it started faithfully every time- for him, at least. It's a clever little pair of rings mounted behind the spinner, which is why some Chiefs have that big spinner.
He told me he'd bought it from a 747 captain who decided he was leery of flying in something with no radios. [smiley=biglaugh.gif]
He also showed me the very minor damage that had been repaired after he lost a brake (beware those old Bendix drums) at a fly-in where others had parked too close to the grass runway... the Chief had veered into a parked Skyhawk.
[smiley=undecided.gif]
According to him, the Cessna was "destroyed"- the wing, anyway- but his baby was easily repaired and is still flying.
Quite the character, this guy... he'd painted a Skyhawk silhouette on the cowling afterwards, as if a "kill mark"!
:evil
I had a long drive home ahead, so I reluctantly said my goodbyes and thank-yous, and left feeling very satisified...my suspicions have been confirmed: I really need a C-140!
[smiley=2vrolijk_08.gif]
